


What He Sees

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, Porn Battle XV, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" If I don’t see anything it’s because I’m not looking.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What He Sees

“What the everloving fuck is wrong with you?” From the comfort of the leather sofa in the upmarket beachside bar, Daniel half-turns towards Jack, his eyes a heated blue in the soft glow of the California sunset.  
  
“Nothing.” It’s mumbled and grudging and the fact that Jack is managing to ruin the first day of their hard-earned vacation for no good reason is pissing Daniel off royally.  
  
“You’ve been like this all day,” Daniel says, snatching the wine glass from the low table in front of them and downing the contents in one.  
  
Beside him, Jack’s shoulder stiffen, and he sits ramrod straight, chin jutting, lips pursed. He’s itching to say something, Daniel can tell. Before he can actually do that, Daniel says it for him. “Actually, scratch that. You were fine when we got here. You weren’t fine after we went swimming and sat talking to those ...”   
  
“Fit young guys with pecs on their pecs, washboard abs, smooth skin, should I go on?” Jack’s staring straight ahead, gaze fixed on the subtly shifting colors of the sea and sand.  
  
Daniel licks his lips, tasting the rich fruit of the pricey red wine – no expense spared; Jack’s handed in his papers and it’s time to celebrate. “What?” No really, he wants to know. Jack’s never felt threatened by younger guys before. This is new. And unwelcome. And wholly unnecessary.  
  
“They were coming on to you, Daniel. Big time. The guy with the long blond hair? Totally had a hard on for you. Didn’t bother to hide it either.”  
  
Daniel frowns. “I didn’t see anything.”  
  
It’s Jack’s turn to half-turn towards Daniel. “You never do. It all goes over your head.”  
  
“Then what’s the problem? If I don’t see anything it’s because I’m not looking.”  
  
Jack shakes his head and dips his gaze, looking away, but not quickly enough. It takes a moment to register, but what Daniel sees so fleetingly but so clearly is fear.  
  
“You’re afraid that one day I _will_ look.” Daniel makes it a statement rather than a question. “And I’ll see.”  
  
Jack says nothing but does manage to allow his gaze to meet Daniel’s, and that clearly takes a lot. The age gap has never been an issue. At least, Daniel thinks it’s never been issue. It certainly hasn’t been for him. Jack is Jack. _His_ Jack.  
  
“Jack,” Daniel says on a sigh that is half exasperated, half wryly affectionate. He pours more wine, drinks slowly, watches Jack watching him swallow, licks his lips even more slowly. He leans in, lets his lips brush the soft, short hair by Jack’s ear. “Follow me,” he whispers.  
  
He gets up and makes his way past the bar to the bathroom, checking himself out in the mirror over the basins. What he sees makes him smile.  
  
The door opens and Jack enters, threat-assessing the hell out of the area. No one here.  
  
Daniel backs up to the counter where the basins are housed and looks directly at the man who has been his lover for eight years, friend for years before that. “The hard on that blond guy had?” He leans back, which has the effect of pushing his groin forward, “Was nothing compared to the hard on you give me.” He glances down, then flicks his gaze back up to find Jack’s eyes straying south. Jack's hungry; there's want written in every tendon, every muscle, every heavy, leaden breath.  
  
Daniel’s hard, the outline of his thickening dick unmistakeable through the soft cream linen of his pants. “You do this to me,” he says, quietly, “You, with your beautiful gray hair, your battle scars and gloriously fuckable ass.” He clenches his own ass, pushing his hard on to even greater prominence.  
  
Jack swallows.  
  
“You wanna touch?” Daniel asks, his breathing shallow and quick. He loves this man; wants him. He always wants him. “Because it’s yours, whenever, wherever, and don’t you _ever_ fucking forget that.” He’s so turned on he can barely see straight; Jack’s hungry expression, the danger of being caught, the warmth of the wine. He reaches down and palms his dick hard and, Christ, it feels good. But Jack’s hands on him will feel better.  
  
“Waiting for en engraved invitation?” He can hear the desperation in his own voice.  
  
Jack looks around, picks up a metal waste container and wedges it under the bathroom door handle.  
  
And then Jack’s on him, kissing him hard, all tongue and heat and delicious wetness. There’s no finesse here, just need and passion only slightly tempered by love.  
  
Jack goes to his knees – Daniel wants to warn him, say ‘Jack, your knees,’ but speech has deserted him - so he lets Jack slide down his body, leaving a trail of desire in his wake. The rub of cotton on his nipples as Jack’s hands map and explore is almost too much and Daniel can’t watch because he’ll come, and he really doesn’t want to come yet. So he gives himself to the sensations of beloved fingers tracing hipbone and massaging through the soft natural fiber.  
  
It’s glorious and sensual, everything that love-making with Jack has come to be over the years.  
  
Then he gasps aloud as Jack undoes his pants and his tongue wets cotton briefs as it strokes up and down, up and down, soaking him, the cold wetness of the cotton a delicious counterpoint to his heated, leaking dick. Jack mouths his dick over and over, lipping and licking, moaning, groaning his need. Mouths and licks. Licks and mouths. Daniel can’t last; he grunts, pushes his briefs down and takes his dick in his hand, only to feel Jack’s warm fingers surround his, and that’s enough to take him all the way. They bring him off together, both breathing hard, Daniel groaning, Jack whispering soft endearments he’ll no doubt deny later.  
  
Daniel smiles as he pulls Jack to his feet, hauls him in close for a long, languorous, breathy kiss.  
  
“About that blond guy,” Daniel says, lips brushing Jack’s gently.  
  
Daniel feels Jack's smile against his mouth. “What blond guy?”  
  
ends  
  



End file.
